Silence
by Benthos
Summary: In which Harry goes through some struggles, finds a way out, then goes through some even more. Harry-Is-Skull, gen
1. Chapter 1

The boy was woken up by swift rapts at his door while he lay in his 'room', if one could even call it that. It was more like an unfitting dog kennel, even if he was pretty sure dogs got a better treatment than him. The room itself barely kept him in and stretched more upward than outward.

"Get up and help me," hissed his aunt, " else there will be consequences." She never really did like him and it was becoming more apparent day by day. It wasn't her fault though, not really. He should know better by now than to go against the rules of the house.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." He muttered before adding in a quick "Good morning." He at least had some standards and manners, not to say Petunia didn't but he was a good Englishman (and doesn't that sound funny! He sounds like the uncle doting on the boy's cousin!)

Petunia hesitated outside the door and whispered back, "Good morning."

He ruffled his hair a little more and knocked to get out, Petunia complied. He always had to knock to get out of his room else he could be held accountable in anything that went missing or was messed with as everyone held themselves to the same rule. No one out of their rooms from dusk to dawn.

Or, at least, he hoped that's what everyone else did. Aunt Petunia said so, said that any civilised person did so, but who really knew? It was honor based, after all.

"What did you want me to do today, Aunt Petunia?" He asked as he stretched. She seemed to be in a good mood so he didn't really want to ruin the mood.

"Just some gardening and housework. Do you think you can do some of the bermuda grass outside?" She got some food out of the fridge.

"You will" Petunia patted him on the head.

"You'll get them." And that was that and so he went.

Bermuda grass wasn't very hard to get up but it was very troublesome. They tended to grow outwards instead of upwards, not to mention they rooted in like a maze. If someone wanted to get rid of them, they either had to just keep cutting the arms or get to the main part of it and uproot it.

Not that bad, a pretty good warm up, the boy thought. After this, he'd get breakfast and help out Petunia with the work around the house. Not too bad, especially since it was in the middle of the summer months. The heat would appear in an hour or so and by that time, he'd be inside - it was a perfect situation!

He gathered the pulled grass into the green waste bin and rolled it out to the front of the house before going back inside. The smell of eggs and bacon immediately greeting him like a long lost dog.

"Are you already done?" Aunt Petunia spoke, eyeing him as he took off his shoes.

"Boy! Help your aunt with the food!" The uncle interrupted both of them. He was probably already eating the food, even though most of it wasn't even done yet. Even though he always yelled at him for eating before them.

"Yes, uncle!" The uncle grunted back at him and a ruffle of paper was heard. Oh right, the uncle picked up reading the newspaper after Aunt Petunia heard some of the neighbors saying anyone who didn't read the paper were uncivilised.

They always were susceptible to the spoken word like that.

The boy dropped his shoes in his room and took the spatula from Aunt Petunia and they both managed the food in silence. He learned how to distance himself from time long ago so, ironically, the time passed quickly and it wasn't long before the toast, orange juice, eggs, and bacon were placed on the table. The uncle was already sitting down at the table and reading the paper.

"Dudley! Breakfast is ready!" Aunt Petunia called out. All three of them were waiting at the table for Dudley to come down so they could start eating, if they ignored Vernon taking bites of his food already. Those poor pieces of bacon, taken before their time, may they rest in peace.

Dudley thundered down the stairs and skidded into the dining room. He took in the food with a deep breath and a wide smile before greeting them, "Good morning Dad, Mum." And of course they swooned over him, never mind the fact that it was better manners to greet everyone than to just greet his immediate family. The boy scowled at him before smoothing his face to a polite smile.

"Good morning, cousin, good dreams?" He asked innocently. He knew that he gave Aunt Petunia and the uncle no way to smack him if he acted like a good boy but Dudley wasn't the same. The boy hated his so called cousin for everything he was worth and his cousin hated him back. Neither knew who started the feud but it existed now so the only way to live was to work with it.

"Oh, plenty of them, cousin. How was yours?" Dudley said back with a wide grin - as if that's supposed to be intimidating , the boy inwardly snorted.

"Wonderful, if a bit-" The uncle cut him off.

"Alright, boys, sit down so we may pray before eating, you know how your mother is religious!" The uncle laughed boisterously and shot the boy a sneer, "Don't make it harder for us than it already is."

Dudley sat down between The Uncle and Aunt Petunia. They looked like a normal family now, huh. Aunt Petunia wore some floral pattern dress with her apron hanging off her chair, The Uncle sat with a formal/casual suit, and Dudley with his grey sweater and shorts. The boy himself only wore a green shirt and dark blue shorts.

The whole situation would be the perfect picture of the perfect family if someone weren't looking deep enough. Looking at the faint scratches on the cabinets in the kitchen. Looking at the scowls and forced grins. Looking at the boy's room under the stairs. The whole situation is a perfect picture of the perfect family.

The picture perfect family finished praying and the boy stopped his straying thoughts. He never could get into the religious scene, even with going to mass every weekend and even with all the prayers. Uncle Vernon kept calling him an abomination against god and a heathen too, so the boy guessed he could count that as another one of the things that didn't get him into religion. Not that he would ever tell anyone, telling anyone that he wasn't into religion was the equivalent of asking someone to drown him - which might end up happening if he did slip up and tell someone.

It was useless to dwell on these things, they just increased the chances of it happening, he thought as he speared a piece of bacon into his mouth. Delicious as always.

They sat in silence and listened to the scraping of forks against the plates and the dull thuds of the cups hitting the table. The food was gone quickly. Dudley rushed upstairs to spend time doing whatever came to his mind and The Uncle left to go to work. Aunt Petunia and him were all alone now.

"Put the dishes in the sink and start on them. After that, I want you to-" three knocks at the door cut her off. "Who is it?" Petunia called out, walking towards the door. Three more knocks at the door. "Yes, what-"

Five people in black cloaks and black clothing pushed past Aunt Petunia. She thudded against the wall. They thundered around with their black combat boots and black scarves (were they scarves?) covering the bottom half of their faces. One of them grabbed him. Two went upstairs and the other looked around the downstairs. Crashes and thuds and cries came from upstairs - Dudley's , he thought. Cushions and plates and everything else was upended and thrown.

Petunia and he were pushed up against the kitchen counter where the window was at and made to stand still with their arms in the air, heads forward. Petunia's cries assaulted him, louder than any scream Dudley, who was being pushed down the stairs, could make in his psyche. Petunia never sobbed like this.

Petunia cried out, "The children! Don't hurt the children! My child! Please, don't hurt them!" Dudley was being pushed by one of the people to stand beside them in the kitchen.

Three of them were idly standing there, all watching them, as the other two ransacked the house. The boy wondered if they were robbers, but that didn't make much sense. Their clothes looked like they were made exactly for them and looked like good quality too, not to mention they left the door wide open. One of their neighbors would've surely came over, wouldn't they have?

As The Boy was in the middle of his relatives, he could look out the door while not being suspicious. It was best for all of them if they complied, right? The cousin was still balling his eyes out and so was the aunt, so maybe it didn't matter much?

Nevertheless, he looked outside. Across the street, people were being led out of their homes with their hands on their heads by the same dressed people occupying his house. They were being escorted into buses that lined the street, kids being separated from their parents to go into separate buses, teens being sorted randomly between the adult buses and the kids buses - some of them even begging to go with their little siblings and being kicked to the adult buses. The elderly were left behind to sit on their house' steps and the pets were being put into a big moving truck.

Things were not going good. How the heck did they not hear everyone else then? All The Boy could hear was The Cousin and The Aunt's cries.

'

A woman, and it was easy to tell because she wore a skin tight suit decorated with a black cloak and gold inside the cloak. She didn't even wear a mask and had a pixie hair cut that changed color every couple of seconds. It kind of reminded the boy of putting all kinds of acrylic paint colors in a cup and swirling it around a couple times. How cool!

"Alright, troops, is this house all done yet? There's still people in here!? What have you flobberworms been doing!?" She strode across the floor and grabbed one of the people, slamming them into the wall. He crumpled immediately and didn't get back up.

"Sir, look at the boy! He holds the mark!" Spoke the boy closest to Dudley.

The woman spun to glare at him then turned to eye everyone lined up. When she got to The Boy she narrowed her eyes and stepped closer. "Huh…" she grabbed his head, turning it in different directions. "Marco, Jack, put the family onboard and set fire to the houses!"

"What?!" Petunia shrieked. The two men grabbed her and The Cousin and dragged them outside. As they crossed through the doorway, they were suddenly muted.

How curious…

"So, of course, you will be coming with me!" The Boy's attention snapped back to the woman in front of him. Apparently she had been talking to him. Huh.

"Uh...okay, can I ask why again? Sorry I don't have a good memory and wow everything is going so fast so-" he was grasping at straws at this point. He didn't think that she would enjoy the fact that he was zoning off the entire time while she spoke so maybe if he made it seem like he just needed clarification that things would end up better? This would be his time to shine.

She cut him off though, "If you weren't listening, just tell me. I'm not stupid, compared to some people. Next time you pull that shit on me, someone will be missing something. Consider yourself warned." She still scowled at him, after rolling her eyes. "Basically, you are apart of a wonderful group so amazing, all this is happening. Congratulations! Now, come with me to get fully introduced, they're gonna love you, special child" She grabbed his arm and all went blurry.

AN: Yes, before I get messages that Petunia is acting weird and really not sticking with herself, yes, I know. It was intended to be like that because people who have children and act like that often lead to some bad mental health growth for the children and yes, people do act like this in real life. It was also chosen to be like that because, while the opposite can happen, I wanted to believe that Petunia had some maternal instinct for Harry, what with being obsessed with the norm and not taking care of a seven year old is probably not the norm in British suburbia.

Funny, that. Isn't it supposed to be 'and everything went black' ?

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AN: Yes, I know, Petunia is not following a sensible character style. I purposefully did this because this style of parenting, while not explicitely delved into in this fic for now, does cause bad mental health growth and may constitute under abuse given certain circumstances. I also did this because I imagine it would be hard not to develop some parental habits towards another child in your home when you have your own child there. Yes, I know that it can definitely happen the opposite way where the other child is not welcomed, like in Harry Potter canon, but Harry is about seven here so Parental Instinct, I imagine with my limited animal kingdom knowledge, would be a little more heightened than with a teenager so Petunia gives him a little care. This is all I will be saying on the matter unless my muse runs towards psychology and I write a bit about it in the story.

Thanks for reading! I will try to publish more chapters biweekly but I am a very busy person.


	2. Woop, there it starts folks

But life doesn't always end up like it's predicted.

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Boom.

The Boy lurched upwards, eyes wide open as dizziness assaulted his self. It was the kind of dizziness one got from leaning too far on a chair or maybe from leaning too far off a heightened sleeping surface, while you were asleep.

With the dizziness came panic.

What just happened? It felt too real! His breath heavied as he tried to recall what happened. Like all dreams, what happened in his dream state quickly vanished and each time he tried to firmly grasp it, the memories danced away. Kind of like a quick breeze searching for a lit candle, The Boy mused.

He could remember a feeling of horror and uncertainty, dismay and confusion- a black figure striding through them, form moving and shifting like smoke. Still holding a general sense of the form but not quite fully committing. Quite frankly, the figure gave him a sense of a rabid dog who hated to be called just that - rabid. He needed to know what happened though, even if he couldn't remember why.

As he explored this train of thought, it expanded. The figure was-

Swift rapts followed by a "Get up and help me," shattered his thoughts. Lurching forward, he wanted to scream. He could remember the first part of the dream now!

"Yes Aunt Petunia, I'll be right there!" He waited for a couple seconds, too excited to say any more words, before rushing out to shake the morning fog out of his head and pushing through his door as fast as he could. Not too fast nor too slow - the time was now and he was _not_ going to miss a chance to help himself by getting caught behind by Petunia.

He could wait a little bit longer to see if things really were going to happen or if it was just a dream. Magic was just a fairytale after all, everything else was placebo and coincidence. Maybe they were wrong though…

"What am I doing today, Aunt Petunia?"

"Gardening and Housework. Can you get the bermuda grass this morning?" She pursed her lips and eyed him, "You will… you will get them." Should he slip himself a knife? Did he need one?

Better safe than sorry, he passed by the knives and paused. Petunia had her back to him. Grinning triumphantly, he put one into his pants, knife down and facing away from his stomach, and stepped out of the house.

It would be a hardship when he had to squat down but, if memory served him right, then The Aunt wouldn't come out to help him. Actually, now that he thought about it, he might as well bolt now. If there was truly nothing to worry about, then the most that would happen is that he would get punished.

Although that came to question whether he would rather be punished or kidnapped but Aunt Petunia said once that children ought to stay with their right parents. Harry hoped he wouldn't have to die soon though, because that would be unfortunate. Very unfortunate. Not to mention he would stand out and The Boy really hoped he wouldn't.

The Boy, previously squat during his inner monologue, looked left. Then he looked right. Nothing peculiar bar from a few odd owls and cats. Then he bolted over the fence, scrambling the while.

No one was watching him but he took the back route anyway, the one that led to a small forest where he could then switch directions and hide out somewhere else without trouble. It was a place he knew like the back of his hand.

No one would force him into danger, not on his watch.

The forest came into view soon enough. It was the kind of forest where the trees were spread out enough to move through with several carts but still not let a lot of light to the bottom. That meant not much underbrush and not many low branches - bad for hiding - but he would make do. The little stubs that were from earlier branches, now barred from light and life, were good enough to climb on. Them and any hollows other animals made, and wow was there animals. Birds of all sorts flew and chirped around while smaller animals darted in and out of his vision.

The forest was noisy, but not like the noise that came from the city, or even the neighborhood around The Boy's house. No, this noisy was natural and it went smooth into his ears. There was no need to shrink away from here, no real danger here. The forest was safe, after all.

Harry took a deep breath, inhaling all the scents of the woods and it's creatures.

He started skipping after a few feet into the forest- it was like a fairy tale! Harry added a few spins, it could be his own fairy tale, but could he have a tale of his own? He was only a boy and there weren't a lot about them and he couldn't just be a knight! Killing dragons were really bad manners, if they wanted someone then, Harry thought, that they would be well mannered to ask first! No one asked the princess if they were even kidnapped in the first place! See how rude it is to assume things before knowing all the facts? He thought to himself, the whole ordeal was simply infuriating.

Sighing, he stopped skipping and spinning. The whole thing was silly. Fairy tales were stupid anyway, even The Cousin thought so…

"What to do, what to do…" It would be a while before he reached civilization again. What should he do? He kicked a rock, frustrated. This thing was kind of… not smart. He only had a knife with him on this crazy journey, inspired by what could have just been an educated guess, it wasn't like those types of mornings were different! The only thing different were the weird people in clothing and even that could be explained away by being a new flavor in his dreams. Dreams were known to be fantastical, after all.

Zoning out was ridiculously easy when you had to traverse a wood, climbing over various large roots taller than yourself and the occasional fallen tree or small cliff. Soon enough, he reached the edge of the woods. The trees thinning, both in quantity and width. Silently, he mourned the loss of nature.

Nothing was really around, only a field of grass and flowers. Harry pursed his lips, hopefully it wouldn't take long to find the nearest house. But, oh how he would hate to trample this nice place in the meanwhile.

The grass stretched further on, much to his irritation. It kept on for what felt like an hour, but honestly, it was a dark day again. The clouds overhead did nothing to help his attempts at telling how long it has been or even what time it was, which he normally wouldn't have had trouble with.

More and more trees trickled in until finally, there was a borderline of trees lining a road. Seems like the little field was a secret the forest kept… Harry spotted a house across the road from him.

How exciting! People! But would they be good for him? What if they had been taken already? He bit his lip - this would be a hard decision. If he picked the wrong one would he simply go back like the vision from before, if one could even call it that? What if he was wrong about the whole thing and they would bring him back to his relative's house and everything was normal? That would be pretty embarrassing but worth it, and so he carefully tip toed over to the house in his house slippers and bland grey, hand-me-down pajamas he got from The Cousin and stepped up to their porch.

Then, he knocked on the door and waited.

AN: This really did not want to get written, sorry for the long wait guys. What with all the rewrites for this chapter (I got all the way to a chapter four before scrapping the entire idea and replacing it with this oof) and stress from IRL, it has been difficult man.

Enough of my whining, I don't own anything any Harry Potter things, it's all J.K. Rowling, but I hope you enjoy my fanwork. Next chapter will hopefully be longer, I have plans for it. Let's hope it actually comes out in the next two weeks lol-

God the spacing in this is awful on here, it looks better in g-docs, sorry guys.


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